Who Am I To You?
by sunshine-48
Summary: “Who am I to you?” “You’re Samantha McCall.” “I know who I am, but who am I to you?” Warning: Swearing


Disclaimer: I do not own anything. I only own my imagination. Please do not sue.

Pairing: Jason/Sam.

Summary: "Who am I to you?" "You're Samantha McCall." "I know who I am, but who am I to you?"

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Who am I to you?

One Shot.

It must have started when she was a child, but Samantha McCall had always felt a keen friendship with the night sky. It may have seemed odd to any other person, but to Sam, the night sky seemed to be her only friend. Everything and everyone else appeared to be against her. Well except one person. But he doesn't qualify as a friend, does he? It's not like she asked for this. It's not like she wished and dreamed that she would fall head over heels in love with Jason Morgan. Although thinking on it, it wouldn't have been a bad dream. It would have been a very good dream that she wouldn't want to wake up from. Unfortunately in dreams you have some control, in reality you have jack-shit. Life comes and goes, and whether you like it or not, it's going to be a bitch most of the time.

Back to the point at hand, it's not like Sam wished this on herself. She wasn't exactly known for stableness in relationships. Last time she fell in love, she winded up pregnant and moved in with a man who apparently hated her. But as time grew, the two of them became close. The two of them meaning Jason Morgan and herself. In fact she had wanted Jason to be the father of the baby instead of the baby's real father. It's a long and complicated story. Jesus, sounds like one of those story plots from a bleeding Soap Opera.

She didn't purposely walk out to the balcony, she just couldn't sleep. Who could sleep when you had a man who looked like a model from an Abercrombie and Fitch magazine? You tend to loose all thoughts of sleep while other thoughts creep in. It's not like they were bad thoughts. Strictly PG-13 and maybe crossing the line, just a bit. So, while she had sleeping troubles, she didn't want to wake up Mr. Abercrombie and Fitch model, so quietly she made her way down the stairs.

She ate strawberries with Nesquik chocolate syrup, and two pop tarts. She skipped dinner. She went to see if anything was on the television, but all there was, was re-runs of silly shows. Well, there was a marathon of Dawson's Creek that she was dying to watch, but that was when her attention was drawn to the outside world.

The sky was pitch black with the golden stars posing as night-lights for the mortal people down below. The full moon loomed over the sky bathing the world in all its glory. She gulped down the last piece of her pop tart. Making up her mind she went to the doors and opened them. Stepping out into the darkness, she breathed in the smell of fresh air. It was an instant reminder of the many times she did this as a child. Imagining that her daughter would have done the same. A knot formed in her throat and her eyes started to burn with tears. She pushed the tears down. She wouldn't cry anymore. She couldn't cry anymore. She was broken enough; she couldn't be reminded that she was already weaker than she was before.

She sat down on the cement floor staring at the night sky. Wondering, how something could be so beautiful and peaceful while she was anything but beautiful and peaceful. Was she beautiful? Jason told her many times that she was, but somehow she got the feeling that he was forced to say it. She knew that she was no Carly. Doesn't matter how bitchy Carly was, men always fell to their knees when they saw her. She definitely knew that she was no Courtney. She had no blond hair and she had no bright blue eyes. She had plain dark brown hair, and plain brown eyes. There was nothing special about her.

She used to think there was. Once upon a time Samantha McCall was a tough girl. Someone who knew what to do and how to go about doing it. She laughed bitterly. Irony obviously developed a humor that stung like a bitch slap. Or Carly. Which ever one you'd prefer.

Samantha McCall used to know who she was. Now, she had no idea. She was lost in a sea of ideal perfections. Her being the imperfect one. Really though, who wanted perfect? Being perfect was no fun. It may have hurt less, but it was no fun.

"Sam? What are you doing out here?" A groggily male voice called out from behind her.

She didn't have to turn around, she knew who it was. "I'm just thinking Jason." She turned to look at him anyway. Who could resist an Abercrombie and Fitch model look alike? "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I could ask you the same question." He replied.

"I told you, I'm just thinking."

He scratched the back of his head and took the seat on the cement balcony next to her. He looked at her and she looked away. She wasn't going to give in. Who wanted to be seated next to a blond hair, blued eyed Abercrombie and Fitch model look alike anyways? She really had to get that Abercrombie and Fitch thing out of her head. It was getting old. Back to the question…well she did. She really did. She wanted to be next to him. She wanted to know him. She wanted to hold him. She wanted to love him. And most of all she wanted him to love her. "Who am I to you?" She questioned.

"You're Samantha McCall." He said to her.

"I know who I am, but who am I to you?" She questioned again.

He looked at her strangely. "Why are you asking?"

She sighed, "Because I want to know what you see when you look at me. I want to know what you love about me; I want to know what you hate about me. I need to know why you want me. I pray and pray that someday I may live up to what you want me to be. I want to know what you think about me. I want to know if I'm what you dream about when you're sleeping. I need to know if I'm wasting my time loving someone who may never love me the way that I love him. I pray that you don't blame me for baby Lila's death. I want to know if you think about me when I'm not around. I want to know that if I runaway, would you cry? I want to know if you ever wished that my hair was blond instead of brown, or if my eyes were blue instead of brown. I want to know if you'll ever be there for me like you're always there for Carly whenever she comes running, with her tail between her legs. I want to be satisfied with the answer, because I'm a selfish uncaring bitch who many people hate, because they claimed that I ruined their lives. I want to know if that's how you feel. Do you feel that I ruined your life somehow? And I need to know if you love me for all the imperfections that I have." She took a deep breath and silently cursed herself for allowing the tears to stream freely down her freckled face. "So Jason Morgan, tell me, Who am I to you?"

He looked at her. Those blue eyes stared deeply into her brown ones. "You are you, and that's why I love you." He answered.

He answered with so much passion and sincerity that for once in her life Samantha McCall was satisfied with the answer.

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So how was that? It was my first JaSam story. I love the couple! They are the cutest and I just adore them together. I hate Dr. Thomas or what-ever his name is. I hate him. Anyways hoped you all liked this, and please review, it would mean lot. 


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